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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438335">recomeçar (start over)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursebreakker/pseuds/cursebreakker'>cursebreakker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, No Condoms, No Pregnancy, POV Ben Solo, Power Imbalance, Summer Romance, Writer Ben Solo, and they were roommates...for one summer, ben's not a cheater nor is rey, big age gap, colin firth in love actually vibes, divorcee ben solo, domesticity kink, housekeeper rey, infidelity themes, no beta we die like men, there will be smut, update more tags as i go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:55:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursebreakker/pseuds/cursebreakker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After catching his wife cheating, Ben Solo goes back to his mother's house but soon needs more space to work on his novel in peace. Enter the cottage in the Catskills that's gone unused for quite some time, there he'll definitely find some peace of mind to finish what he started. </p><p>But he wasn't expecting housekeeper Rey to be there, nor the fact that now (apparently) he'd have company for the rest of his stay in the cottage. These two couldn't be more different from each other, but maybe meeting her will be the answer to his creativity problem. </p><p>Maybe she'll help him start over.</p><p>(loosely inspired by colin firth's character arc in love actually)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>recomeçar (start over)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyrcella/gifts">nyrcella</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello, dears! </p><p>i'd like to thank each and every one of you who read my stories and indulge this little hobby of mine. i'm so glad i found a little corner in the reylo fandom this year, thank you for being awesome! second but not least, i'd like to thank <a href="https://twitter.com/CH4RLIEBARBERS">najla</a> for helping me cook out the plot for this story. </p><p>also, thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/lalaitskelcey2/status/1343603945005084672">this tweet</a> for inspiring me to write ANOTHER old man ben fic (even though 49 is not that old)</p><p>happy reading! remember that comments and kudos are very much appreciated &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>In retrospect, he should have known something was off. Bazine never came home earlier than five, so when he opened the door to their apartment and saw her clothes strewn over the floor he should have thought it—at least—strange. But he didn't, instead he got <em> happy, </em>thinking that maybe she'd gotten home earlier because she'd meant to surprise him. </p><p>And surprise him she did. Just not in a good way. </p><p>The closer he got to their bedroom door, the louder her moans became. Stupidly, he thought she could be pleasuring herself—he did buy her a vibrator recently. However, a part of his brain knew that he was in denial. </p><p>Like a masochist, he opened the bedroom door and the first thing he saw was a man's ass. Then, his wife's legs spread wide open while the man pounded in and out of her. Bazine was so lost in her pleasure that she didn't notice him standing right there in the doorway, he looked down at the cake he'd picked up at the bakery for them. <em> Happy Anniversary</em>, written in big letters. </p><p>He shook his head, feeling his heart break into a million pieces the longer he stared at the scene before him. But soon, pain turned into anger and he let the cake fall to the floor. </p><p>The noise caught Bazine's attention, whose eyes widened to an unnatural size when she saw him. She pushed the man who was fucking her off to the side, scrambling to get the bedsheets to cover herself. As if that would hide the fact that he had just caught her cheating. </p><p>"You're early," she said dumbly, her paramour looked from him to her with a confused expression. Ben doubted he knew she was a married woman.</p><p>He had never opposed her not wanting to wear a wedding band, she's ten years younger than him and he had thought that she found the custom too old fashioned. Now, he chuckled darkly to himself, he knew why.</p><p>"I suggest you clean this up." He pointed to the cake, which was now a mess on the hardwood floor. "You don't want a pest problem." Then, he turned to leave but she sprung out of bed and hurried after him—holding him back by his forearm. </p><p>"Ben, please," she pleaded, looking lost. </p><p>"I want a divorce." He wrung his arm off her grasp and turned away, marching toward the door.</p><p>He could hear her crying as he closed the door shut behind him, but he refused to feel bad about leaving. She wasn't sad he was leaving, she was sad she had gotten caught.</p><p>He deserved better than that. </p><p> </p><p>《》</p><p> </p><p>"I need space to write!" He exclaimed when his mother entered his room yet again, bringing a tray of cookies and black coffee. </p><p>"You've been typing on that machine of yours for hours," she said, putting the plate of cookies next to him on his table. "Don't you want to go outside? Feel the sun on your skin?" </p><p>"Mother," he started, turning on his swivel chair to face her. "My publisher needs a first draft by the end of summer and I'm not even halfway through the story." </p><p>She leaned forward, squinting at the words on the paper. "Is that what you're gonna write?" </p><p>Ben felt himself bristle. "Yes, is there a problem?" </p><p>"Your wife just cheated on you and you're going to write about a man being cheated on?" She intoned, looking from him to his typewriter. "Don't you want to write something happier?" </p><p>"Have you ever read any of my books?" </p><p>His mother huffed. "Yes, I know you have a Russian author complex." </p><p>He raised one eyebrow. "Russian author complex?" </p><p>"You like to write sob stories," she explained. "Not very thrilling reads, my dear." </p><p>"They sell well enough." He shrugged, turning back to his typewriter. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way." </p><p>"Why don't you take a break? Remember our family cottage in the Catskills?" He <em> hmms </em>. "You can go there, take your typewriter if you want to." </p><p>"Why would I do that?"</p><p>"Didn't you just say you need space to write?" He felt his mother's hand land on his shoulder and squeeze. "You'll have plenty of space." </p><p>"Are you trying to get rid of me?" He joked, glancing over his shoulder. His mother had that look on her face, the same one she used on the stray puppies she rescued before giving them a furever home. <em> Pity </em>. </p><p>He strongly disliked that look when it was directed towards him. </p><p>"I just think you could benefit from a change of scenery." She shrugged, smiling softly. "Think about it before you say no." </p><p>Ben watched his mother leave the room, her idea already taking root inside his head. Maybe he <em> would </em>benefit from a change of scenery. Maybe that's exactly what he needed. </p><p> </p><p>《》</p><p> </p><p>The cottage wasn't much different from what he remembered it being when he used to spend his summers there in his childhood and teenage years. It was a plain brick structure two storeys high with a chimney for wintertime, not that they spent their winters there—but the possibility existed if they wanted to. </p><p>But, for sure, the best thing about the cottage was the lack of memories of Bazine in it. For they'd never once step foot in this place while together. No, in his marriage the only places they visited were foreign countries. He should have known Bazine loved his money more than she loved <em> him </em>. </p><p>He looked down at his ringless finger, the feel and weight of his wedding band had become so familiar to him. It felt strange not having it on. Strange, but liberating at the same time. </p><p>With his typewriter tucked under his arm and a hard suitcase on hand, he entered the cottage expecting it to be in desperate need of cleaning only to be surprised when the place turned out to be spotless. </p><p>Strange. </p><p>As far as he knew his mother hadn't visited the cottage in ages, nor anyone in the family. Maybe it just appeared to be clean then, perhaps if he ran his finger over the windowsill it would come out coated in dust. He did just that, but his finger remained dust free. </p><p>He left his typewriter in the study room, then went to stand by the window behind the big cherry wood table. The scenery was truly something else, spring had just given way to summer and the leaves were bright green outside, the lake glimmered with untapped potential. Maybe he would go for a swim later. </p><p>"You must be Mr. Solo." A voice spoke behind him, almost making his spirit leave his body. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." </p><p>He turned, ready to scold the owner of the voice but stopped his mouth just in time when he saw <em> who </em>exactly she was. A young woman in a ponytail stood in the study's doorway, a dusting of freckles covered her nose giving her a jovial glow that only heightened her apparent youth. </p><p>"Who are you?" He asked instead, moving around the table to meet her halfway into the room. </p><p>"I'm Rey." She extended one hand, waiting for him to shake it. "Your mother called the cleaning agency I work for. This is my summer job." </p><p>He shook her hand, still trying to understand what she was saying. "That means you'll be <em> here </em> all summer?" </p><p>She nodded, wringing her hands together. "If you didn't like my cleaning they can send someone else—" </p><p>Ben held up a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "That's not what I mean, your cleaning is great." She smiled in relief. "I thought I was going to have the place for myself, that's all." </p><p>"Your mother told me you're a writer," she said, speaking slowly. "I'm not going to be a distraction, I promise." </p><p>He stared at her, taking in her pretty hazel eyes and shy smile. Somehow, he doubted that. </p><p>"Do you cook?" Now that he was here, he realized that he had forgotten to get groceries—not only that, he also lacked any culinary skills that went beyond fried eggs and bacon or canned food. </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>He hummed in approval. "And you'll make yourself scarce?" </p><p>She replied with a firm nod. "You'll forget I'm even here." </p><p>"Good." </p><p> </p><p>《》</p><p> </p><p>He did not, in fact, forget she's there. </p><p>As soon as he sat down to write, he heard a knock on the door and she was there again. "Excuse me, sir." </p><p>"Yes, Rey?" </p><p>"There are no groceries in the kitchen." </p><p>He sighed. "Do you know how to drive?" </p><p>Her eyes widened. "No?" </p><p>"You don't know if you can drive or not?" </p><p>She licked her lips, clearly agitated. "I <em> don't </em>drive, no." </p><p>"I suppose it would be wise to go for groceries before the supermarket nearest to us closes, right?" </p><p>She nodded in response. Not a very talkative person, this girl. Not that he cares, he's definitely not complaining about the silence. </p><p>"Very well." He sighed, standing up from behind the desk and stretching his arms over his head. He could feel his shirt riding up a little, showing a bit of skin. Rey averted her gaze, cheeks flushed. "Let's go," he said to her, feeling her fall into step after him once they leave the study. </p><p>She's quiet on the drive to the supermarket, he noticed that she wouldn't stop picking on the skin around her nails. Was she uncomfortable around him? They had just met. He couldn't wrap his head around a motive for her skittishness. Maybe she was simply a nervous person and it had nothing to do with him. Yes, that must be it. </p><p>Ben got to push the shopping cart around, like he used to do with Bazine and his mother before him. It felt strange, doing such a simple chore with a complete stranger—like they were buying groceries for <em> their </em> house together. He supposed that, in a way, it was their house since she would be spending her summer there with him. Rey kept grabbing stuff from the aisles, but before she put them inside the cart she'd always turn to him and ask if she could take it, at some point he got annoyed at the repetitive action and snapped. </p><p>"Grab whatever you want, Rey." </p><p>She lowered her eyes, holding the box of cereal she'd just asked him if she could take closer to her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. </p><p>Feeling like an asshole, he sighed. "No, <em> I'm </em>sorry." His hands squeezed the shopping cart's handle a little tighter than necessary. "You can take whatever you want, don't worry about the price." </p><p>Her eyes widened. "Are you sure?" </p><p>"Yeah." </p><p>They went through a couple more aisles before Rey deemed their cart full enough. On their way to the cashier, though, Ben was stopped by an old family friend who always spent summers in the cottage neighbor to his own. </p><p>"Ben Solo!" The purple haired lady said, she was a friend of his mom's and had always rocked the crazy hair color. "How have you been? I heard about the split up, oh, and who's this?" Her intelligent eyes, and definitely still sharp for her advanced age, turned to Rey. She offered a shy smile in return. </p><p>Now his mother would know the cleaning lady she hired was pretty and young. Wait, where had that come from? </p><p>"I'm Rey." </p><p>"Oh, what a lovely name," Ms. Holdo said, taking Rey's hand in hers. "Are you helping our Ben recover from his broken heart?" </p><p>Ben lifted one hand between Holdo and Rey, gently prying them apart. He kept one hand on the girl's shoulder while he spoke. "My mom hired Rey to clean the cottage. She's just the help, Ms. Holdo." </p><p>Immediately, the older lady's face fell. "Oh, I see." </p><p>"If you'll excuse us, we need to ring these." He pointed to the groceries piled up on the cart, then swiftly steered himself and Rey toward the closest empty cashier. </p><p>"It was good to see you, my boy!" Holdo called, he waved and smiled tightly. </p><p>"Sorry about that," he mumbled to Rey, feeling her shoulder tense under his touch. "I didn't want her to think there was something else to our relationship." </p><p>"Why? Because I'm just the help?" </p><p>The cashier began ringing their groceries, oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between them. "Where did that come from?" </p><p>"Nothing, forget it." </p><p>"Did you <em> want </em>her to think you were my rebound?" </p><p>Rey's cheeks colored scarlet. "No, but—would it be so bad if she did?" </p><p>
  <em> What?  </em>
</p><p>"Forget I said anything," she mumbled. "It's stupid." </p><p>But he couldn't forget. On the ride back home it was all he could think about. <em> Would it be so bad if she did? </em> Why hadn't he let Ms. Holdo believe he and Rey were together in that manner? Why did he have to state she was <em> the help </em>? Maybe that's what hurt her? Maybe she thought he believed himself to be better than her. He had just meant to say that they weren't together because she was working for him and he wouldn't take advantage of that situation, plus she was probably twenty years younger than him—he hadn't asked her age, but she looked to be in her early twenties while he was in his late forties. </p><p>What he meant to say was: <em> we're not together, look at us. A beautiful young woman and an old man like me who got cucked by his wife</em>—<em>what a catch!  </em></p><p>They brought the groceries inside silently, just as they had ridden back to the cottage in silence, not even the radio had been turned on. She slowly started to unpack and put the groceries away while he stood there in the kitchen staring at her like a lost puppy. </p><p>"I'm sorry if I offended you." </p><p>She stopped unpacking for a moment. "You didn't." </p><p>"I know we don't know each other well," he said. "But I think you're lying." </p><p>"Don't you have a book to write or something?" </p><p><em> Right </em>, he nodded and left her alone. </p><p>The study seemed very less welcoming when he stepped foot into it again and inspiration was slow to come as he stared at the empty page in front of him. When he turned to look out the window, he saw Rey marching down the lake dock and plopping her legs into the water. </p><p>He spent way too much time observing her. When she stood up and strode back to the house, he turned back to his typewriter and glared at it. </p><p>A knock on the door. </p><p>"Yes?" He called, perhaps a little too quickly. </p><p>Rey poked her head into the room, she wasn't smiling when she asked him what he wanted for dinner. He said she could make whatever she wished for. </p><p>The door closed. And Ben couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt so disappointed with their exchange.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and kudos are appreciated! ((:</p><p> - this fic's title was inspired by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5-SRnWMkwc&amp;t=20s">this brazilian song</a>, the lyrics (translated in this youtube video) and the atmosphere this song gives me was a huge inspiration for this fic. you're welcome to give it a listen. </p><p>- sneak peek of the lyrics and translation if you don't want to listen to the song: </p><p>Eu vou deixar ela ir embora / I'm gonna let her leave<br/>Chegou a hora / It's time (x2)<br/>Eu não vou mais me fechar pra sempre / I'm not going to shut myself forever<br/>Daqui pra frente / From now on (x2)<br/>O que começa terá seu final / What begins will end<br/>Isso é normal / This is normal (x2)<br/>A dor do fim vem pra purificar / The end's pain comes to purify<br/>Recomeçar / Start over (x2)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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